


One Last Time

by Milo_003



Series: One Last Time [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Concerned Chat Noir, Death: maybe maybe not, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mentions of Blood, Mild Language, No Romance, One Shot, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Notes, Tissue Warning, but might become a series, don't try to stop her, only one way out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:35:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25611409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milo_003/pseuds/Milo_003
Summary: She can't take it anymore. Being both Ladybug and Marinette Dupain-Cheng leaves her with no control. But there's still one thing that she can manage: life and death
Series: One Last Time [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1856434
Comments: 6
Kudos: 55





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for clicking on my story. This is just a short prologue before the actual one-shot :)

It wasn't Marinette’s fault that she was born a perfectionist. At times it was a gift. Others, it only brought hardship.

When she was fourteen, an unexpected wrench smashed its way into Marinette's already struggling mind. But there was nothing she could do about it. She had no control. And that’s why she started.

Every once in a while, when Marinette couldn’t control anything, she would wrap her hands over her shoulders and dig her nails into them, almost always drawing blood. It helped by getting her in control of one thing. So long as she could manage one thing, it was able to work. But, in the end, it only helped a little while. Soon enough, she would grab a sewing needle and carve into her thighs. After a couple sessions, it no longer hurt. The red lines were oddly satisfying to watch as the metal needle cut across the flesh. Marinette never wore anything that showed her legs, so it was fine. She was fine. It was normal by now.

Normal. There’s a different definition for everyone. For Marinette, it was crying in her room one minute then singing with her parents in the bakery the next. It was putting on a mask with her friends while she was actually crying inside. It was putting up a facade with Chat Noir, only to break down with the detransformation. Perhaps that was the real reason why Ladybug didn’t let Chat know just how much he meant to her. Granted, she used to love Adrien, but her chaton would always have a special place in her heart.


	2. One Last Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After reading the prologue, you might think that there will be a major character death/suicide. If you really want to know if there is going to be a major character death, then go ahead and skip to the bottom note, BUT, wouldn’t it be more interesting for it to be a surprise? I urge you to not skip because while I was writing this, I wasn’t sure if they would die or not. And the story is supposed to be heart wrenching. So please, start at the beginning. Thank you :)

One…

  
  
  


Last…

  
  
  


Time…

  
  
  
  


Marinette started to stir at 4:47 am on Friday to the sound of light rain gently tapping on the skylight above her head. The clouds above blocked any light from the stars or moon as she started to wake in a pitch black room. She rubbed her darkened eyes with the palm of her hands, adjusting to the darkness. Soon, she was awake as a thought passed in her mind. This was the day. The day everything would go away. Nothing could stop her. Not her friends or family, not her beloved partner, not even the responsibilities she had as Ladybug.

She sluggishly rolled over and tapped the alarm on her phone that usually went off at 7:45 am. Marinette sat up, pushed off the comforter, and let her legs hang off the side of the bed. Little by little, blood began to flow back into her legs, leaving a tingling feeling in her toes. 

After a few minutes, Marinette climbed down the ladder. She walked over and placed her hands on her desk, looking over the many sheets of paper below her. A letter with only two words was on top of the pile.  _ ‘Mon Minou’ _ they read.

Nearly everything else was set. Notes for her parents, kind classmates, and the beginnings for Master Fu. But the one she began to write for Chat Noir a week ago was too difficult. Ironic. The note for someone she didn’t know the name of was the hardest to write. Yet, even though that mask covered his identity, he was always himself with her. So why couldn’t she just tell him how much she treasured his silly puns and personality? 

Marinette crumpled up the paper and tossed it in the waste basket under the desk. Perhaps she’ll add something for Master Fu to tell Chat. She proceeded to carefully fold all the letters and placed them in their respected envelope marked with the recipient. When all but one was done, Marinette glanced at the letter.

_ Later, _ she thought, placing it to the side, away from the pile of envelopes stacked in the middle of her desk. 

She stood up and checked the time: 6:24 am. Cursing under her breath about how long it took her, Marinette quickly climbed up to the balcony above her room. As she opened the hatch, the bright glare of the early morning sun hit her face as the rain clouds didn’t stay long that morning. She walked up to the railing and looked out at the waking city. Cars and buses passed on the street below and the fresh morning air was better than the smell of her closed off room. Even the air tasted crisp and new. But it wasn’t enough to stop her. 

“One last sunrise,” she whispered with a hoarse voice.

Closing her eyes, she took in every little bit of sun that touched her deprived skin. She sucked in a big breath of fresh air and relished in the early morning. After a few more deep breaths, she turned back to her stale room, sealing the hatch shut.

  


Marinette took the next hour and a half either staring at the blank wall that used to hold her crushes' pictures, sewing the finishing touches on the long, black silk dress on the mannequin, or slowly getting ready for the day. Soon enough, the eighth hour in the day struck. Marinette sighed and finished packing her bag with the homework that wasn’t even close to being done. 

  


“Marinette, you're going to be late for school,” her mother called down the stairs.

Marinette took a deep breath before opening the trap door and hopping down the stairs. “Good morning, Mama,” she said with a smile, kissing her mother's cheek. “I won't be home for lunch today. Alya said she needs my help with something.”

“That’s alright dear,” her mother replied. “At least take a sandwich and an apple to eat.”

Marinette was already at the open front door, calling back, “Don’t worry. I already have something packed.”

Before Sabine could say anything else, her daughter was gone. 

  


Marinette dropped her fake smile and headed down the stairs to the bakery. Once she got there, she forced the smile back on and opened the door to find her father ringing customers up. 

“Good morning, Papa,” she said in the same cheerful tone she gave to her mother. 

“Good morning, Marinette,” Tom replied with a grin. “You're out the door earlier than usual. School doesn’t start for another 15 minutes right?”

“Yeah, Alya wants me there a little early to show me something,” Marinette lied, heading straight for the front door.

Tom turned his back on his daughter, grabbing a small box and filling it with croissants. As he turned back, he said, “Why don’t you take some- Marinette?” But it was no use, as she was already out the door.

  


Marinette quickly crossed the street despite the cars that zoomed by. She climbed the steps to the school and ran over to the locker rooms, breathing very heavily. Luckily, no one from her class was here yet. So she quietly snuck into the girls bathroom and locked herself in the last stall on the far end. Marinette put the lid down and sat, hugging her knees to her chest as she lightly rocked.

“Okay,” she whispered to herself as her breath began to quicken even more. “You’re  _ not  _ having a panic attack, Marinette. Don’t you  _ dare  _ try to back out. Think about the feeling taking that last step into pure freedom.” Marinette’s breathing slowed as she talked to herself. 

The rush of wind over her face. The weightlessness of her body as she falls to the grey concrete below. The burden of being Ladybug and Marinette being left at the top. She was right. It was pure freedom.

Suddenly, the school bell rang, drawing Marinette from the darkness of her own thoughts. She took her time getting up and unlatching the stall. Everything seemed to move slowly. She dragged herself out to the court yard and up the stairs to the classroom. Marinette didn’t care if she interrupted the class. She just nodded when Mme. Bustier said something and sat in her seat, taking out the notebook from her bag. 

  


The morning dragged on until the lunch bell rang and Alya nudged her with an elbow.

“Hey, girl. How are you? You seem a little down today. Nino and I were planning on going to get ice cream after school today and you should come too,” Alya said, a bit of worry creeping into her voice as she spoke. 

Marinette faked a small smile. “I’m fine.”  _ I’m not. _ “Just thinking about a surprise project of mine.”  _ Suicide. _ “I just want to work on it after school.”  _ But I have to wait till dark. _

“Alright, girl,” Alya replied, squeezing her friend in a one armed hug. “Any chance about getting details on this ‘surprise project’ of yours?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”  _ Tomorrow. _ “Just be patient.”

“I can't wait. You always create spectacular designs,” Alya replied, standing up. “How about you come over to my place for lunch? My mom is cooking,” she sang. 

“Sorry, I promised Papa that I would help him on a new recipe. Maybe tomorrow?”

“Sure thing girl. We can invite the girls over too!”

“Sounds great Alya. Let's plan on it,” Marinette smiled.

Alya smiled back before heading to the exit. “Come on Nino, let's go,” she said, already at the door.

Adrien muttered something to Nino which inflicted a laugh out of both of the boys. As Nino left, Adrien turned in his seat and looked up at Marinette, who was packing her things much slower than the rest of the class.

Adrien paused for a moment before saying anything. “Does your father need a taste tester?”

“What?” Marinette questioned, looking up from the contents of her bookbag.

“I overheard part of your conversation with Alya, and I think I can get out of having lunch at the mansion if I’m helping a friend. That is, if it’s okay with you and your father if I tag along.”

“Oh,” she said plainly, diverting her gaze back down.  _ Why must you ask. You're one of the two people I don’t want to lie to. _ “Papa is very particular about new recipes.. and..”

“No worries, Marinette,” Adrien interjected, picking up his bag and smiling down at her. “I know you and your father will make something amazing. I can't wait to taste it once it comes out.”

Before she could even muster the strength to look up, Adrien was gone. Gone. Just a couple more hours and Marinette will never see his sunshine hair or those bright green eyes ever again. Green. The same bright green that reminds her too much of her partner. And she’s most likely already seen the last of him.

_ There’s no going back, _ Marinette thought, standing up in the long emptied classroom.  _ One last lunch. _

So Marinette picked up her bag like everyone else did, and walked out into the hallway. Descending down the stairs to the courtyard, she headed off to the lockers, then into the girls bathroom, and entered the same stall she did that morning. She slowly put down the lid to sit on. Pulling out a clean sheet of line paper and pen, Marinette wrote:

_ Chat Noir, _

“No,” she said, scribbling it out.

_ Chat Noir, _

_ Dearest Chaton, _

_ There is nothing left in this world that gives me a reason to live anymo _

Marinette slapped herself across her cheek. “That’s not how you start a suicide note, Marinette. You’ve done this plenty of times before. What’s wrong with you.” She scribbled it out.

_ Chat Noir, _

_ Dearest Chaton, _

_There is nothing left in this would that gives me a reason to live anymo_ _You have been the best partner_ _a girl_ _I could ever have. I know that I_ _kept_ _never wanted our identities revealed for many reasons_ ** _._** _some more obvious than others_ _But I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore. I was Marinette Dupain-Cheng; the girl who couldn’t find any reason to keep living in this world._ _There was nothing you_ _You were the last one that_

“No!” Marinette yelled, not caring if anyone heard. Dropping the pen on the floor, she crumpled the paper into a tight ball, holding it firmly in her hands. Thoughts crossed her mind if she should toss it into the trash bin right then and there, or keep it. Like the devil and angel, her thoughts bickered. Of course, at least in her case, the devil usually wins. Marinette shoved the wad of paper into the small confines of the trash, picked up her bag, and left; forgetting about the pen. She didn’t want to be near it or tempted. She’ll just have to try again later, or… just not write to him at all. 

“Yeah,” Marinette whispered to herself, walking out of the locker room and heading back to the classroom. “Why bother trying anymore? Nothing will be good enough. I’ll just add two sentences to Master Fu’s letter later.”

Pushing the door in, Marinette walked into her empty classroom. Her gaze immediately fell upon Adrien’s seat. It was hard enough finding the right thing to say to Adrien. Two sleepless nights it took her. Two heart wrenching, hair pulling, pen scratching nights; never sure if she should confess she had a crush on him or not. Even up til now Marinette isn’t a hundred percent sure. 

“Sorry Adrien,” she whispered, rounding his desk. “But not saying anything is easier for me to let go.”

Marinette slumped down into her bench with a groan. She flopped down on the desk and rested her head in her arms.

_ Forty-five more minutes of lunch, three more hours till the last bell rings, two and a half and I’ll see my last sunset. Then, and only then, there will be nothing else to do but wait for midnight. _ Marinette lolled her head to the side, aimlessly looking out the large window to her right.  _ Waiting. That’s all I’ve been doing it seems. Prolonging my life just to please everyone but myself. Now,” _ she thought, closing her eyes,  _ “Now I will please myself for once.” _

Sleep came surprisingly easy. For the past month, Marinette would toss and turn throughout the night, thoughts everywhere. Maybe it was the pleasant smell of the cleaning agents that were used in the school. Maybe it was the glow of the LED lights above. Maybe it was the peace of mind that this day gave her. Perhaps it was all three.

  


The ringing of the first bell woke Marinette with a golt from her quick nap. A cat nap, if you will. Alya and Nino were already in their seats, leaning over to each other and whisper-arguing about something. She didn’t look back to see who else was already seated, but she could guess who was by the few students who came in before the second bell had a chance to mark them tarty. Chloe and Sabrina didn’t shock her. Neither did Alix. But Adrien, he stepped through the door just as the bell rang with Mme. Busier following close behind. Adrien didn’t wave, much less acknowledge she, Alya or Nino. He just quickly sat down and pulled out his notebook.  The former Marinette would question and wonder in silence why he wasn’t acting like his usual self. But again, that’s what the former Marinette would do. So, she ignored Adrien and let her mind wander, not a care in the world if whatever Mme. Busier was teaching stuck. She wouldn’t live long enough to use any of the information.

Time dragged on. Marinette looked at the clock every two minutes or so, hoping that it would read 4:00. But to no avail. About half an hour later, Marinette found herself drawing a little doodle that looked like a dark rain cloud. The calm before the storm.

Focused on the doodle, time passed a little faster. Eventually it was five till. Madame Bustier assigned the homework for the weekend, and the class had the last few minutes to chat with friends.

Alya abruptly stood from her seat and leaned over the desk, snatching Nino’s signature hat.

“Hey!” Nino protested, twisting in his seat.

With a hand propped on her hip and the hat twirling on her finger, Alya gave a smirk. “You’ll get this back once you tell me what you and Adrien laughed about before lunch.”

Marinette didn’t have the energy. Four more minutes. One last bell.

“Can’t Adrien and I have fun without you needing to know every inside joke?” Nino said, standing up.

“You can. But they can’t be about me.”

“I didn’t say it was about you.”

“You just admitted it.”

“Wha- No. Don’t go putting words in my mouth.”

Adrien held a hand over his mouth, trying his best not to burst out in laughter. His weird mood, gone.

“See!” Alya said with a smile, pointing an accusing finger at Adrien. “Adrien is  _ terrible _ at hiding secrets. Just fess up already.”

“Hey,” Adrien replied, his brows furrowed but a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I have plenty of secrets.”

“Like what?” Alya questioned.

“I- They wouldn’t be secrets if I told you.”

“Okay,” Nino interjected, sighing with a palm to his forehead. “This is getting nowhere. Adrien said that you were acting like we were married and I might have mocked ‘yes dear’ at lunch.

Alya paused, letting the hat slow to a stop. She pursed her lips. “I suppose I do talk like that, huh?” Alya tossed the hat back at Nino and let out a huff, sitting back down.

As if on cue, the last bell of the day rang. 

Marinette let out a breath that she didn’t know that she was holding. One last bell. One last school day. Marinette shoved her notebook and pen into her book bag, standing up abruptly. All three of her closest friends looked at her with a shocked gaze. But she didn’t care. All Marinette wanted to do was run home and crawl into bed. Maybe time will pass faster there. So, Marinette, bag in hand, followed the crowd of classmates out the door, to the courtyard, and down the front steps. Her best friend didn’t even get the chance to ask if she really didn’t want to go get ice cream. And a certain friend knitted their eyebrows at her actions.

Marinette hurried down the sidewalk, only to come to a halt by a stop light. More cars whizzed by in the afternoon than in the morning.

Just a couple steps and she would most likely meet her demise. It would be quick. She wouldn’t have to wait another seven hours or so. No. Too many people. Someone would call an ambulance and she would be questioned by doctors. So many doctors. 

Luckily, the light turned green before her mind could wander any further. Marinette crossed and rounded the corner to the entrance of her parents bakery. She took a deep breath, plastered on another fake smile, and opened the door. Both of her parents greeted her before turning back to the line of customers in the small shop. Marinette took that chance to escape upstairs, saying she had homework to get done.

Once in the safety of her room, Marinette stripped off her clothes and changed into a baggy Chat Noir themed sweatshirt and a pair of light grey shorts. She shook out her pigtails and let her hair fall down just below her shoulders only to be pulled up into a messy bun. As she wrapped her hand around the ladder leading to her bed, though, the lonesome paper urged her not to. 

Marinette sighed and let go. She walked over and leaned over the parchment. Chat wasn’t going to get a letter as she decided it earlier that day. Regardless, Chat needs something from her. Even if it’s just a few sentences. Grabbing a pen and a blank sheet of lined paper, Marinette thought. 

An hour passed and nothing good came to mind. Everything she came up with eventually ended up saying things that Chat Noir would never want to hear. Sighing into her chair, Marinette took a break. Her mind wandered. 

How was she going to give him his letter if she managed to complete it? It's not like she could give it to him alive nor in death. Someone would have to give it to him. Someone who knows where to find him. Someone like Master Fu. 

Yeah. She wouldn’t have been able to give it to him anyways. This way, it's easier.

The little bit of clarity gave Marinette a sliver of hope. She picked her pen back up, intending to write a max of two sentences, but stopped. The pen hovered a centimeter above the white paper, itching to bleed into it. 

Master Fu’s part needed to be finished first. Quickly, Marinette finished his part off. When she got to Chat’s part, she had to stop herself again.

It has to sound right. This is for Chat after all. He deserves the best. He is the best. Such few words won’t be able to tell just how much Chat means, is, represents. So she’ll do her best. Two sentences is all she gets.

  


With the final flowing strokes of the pen, it was done. Just like with the rest, a simple ‘Goodbye, ~Marinette’ ended the last letter. Nothing could have prepared Marinette for how she would feel finishing it. A mix of relief as well as regret and sorrow filled her to the brink. Tears started to swell up, quickly running down the side of her cheeks. A few fell on the parchment, causing small stains where they should never have been. Why did she have to cry now? None of the others got tears, not even her parents, her best friend, her former crush. Only that damn cat. That damn, sacrificing himself for her, stupid relentless flirt, taking a piece of her heart, cat.

Marinette wiped away stray tears, saying, “Pull yourself together. Today isn’t the day for crying.” She dropped the pen from her hand, landing somewhere under the desk, as she walked around the ladder towards her vanity. Tucked away in the small middle drawer, Marinette pulled out an even smaller black hexagon box with an intricate design on top. She didn’t dare to open it knowing a certain ladybug themed creature would appear and give her an earful. Instead, Marinette quickly shuffled the letter and box into a cardboard box. With a strip of tape, it was sealed. 

Marinette sighed, flopping down on the ground. Not two seconds later, her mom called that dinner was ready. One last meal. 

Earlier in the week, Marinette requested her Mama’s infamous chicken noodle soup. And that’s what she had. Even after barely eating for the last week and a half, she didn’t eat a whole lot. The broth soothed her stomach the first few sips, but anymore and Marinette would have thrown up. Guess even her body knew she would die within the six hours left of that day. 

Marinette excused herself from the table despite the worried looks on her parents faces. Though they didn’t question, Marinette felt as if she should say something. She gave a reassuring smile, saying, “I really want to finish my project before I lose all of my ideas.”

She didn’t look back as she climbed the steep stairs back up to her bedroom. Once the trapdoor shut, Marinette slid back onto the floor. She had three hours until they went to bed. Three hours of doing nothing. Marinette groaned and flipped onto her side. Her gaze fell upon the mannequin next to her chaise. The flowing black silk wrapped around the fabric and metal body enticed her, beckoning her. Marinette stood up and strolled over, a hand grazing the soft fabrics. If she was going to die, it needed to be in something that she created. One last piece.

Somehow, she couldn’t help but smile. A real, genuine smile. It made sense that one of her last smiles would be because of one of her designs. After all, she had such an easy time sketching and creating the dress. 

_ Three more hours, _ Marinette told herself.  _ Until then, let's see if I can find a way to pass the time quickly. _

And she did. Turns out that knowing everything is in place gives peace of mind. She headed up to the balcony above her room and watched the sun set behind the cityscape. 

“One last sunset,” she whispered into the wind.

Marinette stayed up there long after the stars came out; the crescent moon rising where the sun previously set. Everything about the night seemed perfect as the wind blew a promise of a warm summer. Not like Marinette would come to see it. But it was a nice thought. Steadily, lights started going out. First it was the businesses, then the apartments, and finally her parents. 

_ It's time, _ she thought. Marinette took one last look from her balcony, soaking in the sweet smells from her little potted garden. Then, she headed back down.

Two lamps kept the room lit: one near the vanity and one on the desk. Climbing down, Marinette looked at the black silk dress. If she was going to wear that dress, she had to wear it properly. She walked over to the vanity and pulled out a small make-up bag. It didn’t hold a whole lot, but it was enough. 

Having barely done make-up before, Marinette did a surprisingly good job making a subtle smokey eye with black eyeshadow as eyeliner. Though, a few tutorials should take most of the credit. To finish it off, a dark maroon covered her lips.

Checking the time, it was 9:46 pm. Marinette took a deep breath. After a moment or two, she slipped the sweatshirt and shorts off before grabbing the dress. She stepped in and zipped up with ease. 

_ It really is beautiful, _ Marinette thought as she stepped in front of a body mirror next to the vanity.

The under skirt stopped right at her knees as the black silk flowed a little further down. The loose, deep maroon underlayer, in a rectangular cut, matched the lipstick. Though, it didn’t pop as much since two layers of black see-through fabric, cut the same, covered the solid maroon. At the waist, right above the belly button, a two finger, solid black ribbon was incorporated. The top was made of the same material, however, a deep V cut down all the way to the waist. Reciprocated, the back was identical. A three finger strap held the dress up on both shoulders, the same black silk flowing down on the outside of the arms to the elbows A black single finger, loose elastic, attached to the silk, sat just above the crook of the elbow. The silk flowed down freely, eventually ending in a soft point a couple fingers short of the red of the skirt.

_ Such a shame that it won't ever be seen on a red carpet. _ Marinette placed the hair tie that previously kept her black hair up, letting it kiss her shoulders.

She should have smiled. She should have stayed and stared at her reflection. She should have broken down into tears. But that wasn’t the plan. 

Marinette took a deep breath, taking one last look at the girl in the mirror. She grabbed the cardboard box, flipped open the trap door, and quietly descended the stairs. At the front door, Marinette slipped on her usual flats before dashing out the door and down another flight of stairs. Once out in the street, a feeling of freedom washed over her. As much as she wanted everything to be left behind her, she still held the cardboard box. So, in order to get rid of her final burden, Marinette started off down the sidewalk.

  


Marinette roamed the nearly empty streets of Paris. Very few cars disturbed the low buzzing of lamp posts and no one else was taking a nighttime stroll. At least that's what it looked like. Unknown by its presence, a leather clad figure peered down at the lonely girl as she made her way down to the Seine. 

The figure followed, taking to the shadows of rooftops and keeping low when vaulting in the air. Once they got to the Seine, Marinette followed to boardwalk up river. It wasn’t long before she took a tunnel to a side street. Many different doors lined the bottom walls while windows, balconies, and clothes lines cluttered the space above. As she walked, doors were placed further apart and there was more space to see the stars. At the second to last door on the right, Marinette placed the box down and set one of the many small plants on top. 

Knowing Master Fu, he would most likely find his potted plant out of place.

Marinette turned and walked back the way she came, her face expressionless. 

  


The masked figure tilted its head at her actions. Why would she leave a package two hours before midnight? Why bother with all the secrecy? None of it made sense. But before the figure was able to jump down and take a look at the package, it had to follow the girl who left it, for she was already at the small tunnel.

  


Instead of turning back home, Marinette turned up the river. After a few minutes of walking she stopped. An uneasy feeling washed over her and the hairs on the back of her neck prickled. Someone was definitely watching her. Marinette didn’t turn around. After all, the best way to lose a tailer is for them to think they are still undetected. So Marinette faked a sneeze, knowing that was enough of an excuse to stop. Now, she needed to lose the stalker.

Marinette twisted down the city streets of Paris. One minute it was a leisurely stroll, then ducking into an alley and dashing to the next corner; keeping to the shadows. Unfortunately, she could still feel the lingering stare. So, there was only one thing she could do. Confront the person.

She stopped in the middle of the road, a street light just behind her.

“Show yourself,” Marinette said, anger dripping from her tone.

Nothing emerged.

“Show yourself or else!” she shouted.

From the alley she just ran from, a black figure stepped onto the sidewalk, still sticking to the shadows. There was something familiar about it. Almost as if Marinette has seen this person for hours upon end.

“Who are you?” Marinette questioned.

“Still unsure about who I am, Princess?” The figure replied emerging into the street lamps light.

_ Chat. I don’t have time for this. _

“Why are you following me?” Marinette said bluntly.

“What, no hello?” His signature grin accompanied his words.

Marinette turned around and headed off away from Chat Noir, saying, “Go home. You’re not needed here.”

Chat bounded up and blocked her path, a questionable look on his face. Marinette pushed him aside, but to no avail. He only came back, but this time, a hand was on her forearm. 

“Let go!” she yelled, swinging her arm to get him off. But his grip only tightened.

“What’s wrong Marinette?” Chat said in a calm voice. However, it only aggravated her more.

“Let go you dirty feline!”

A smack to the chest caused Chat to stagger backwards in surprise and release his grip, mostly likely not hurt at all.

Marinette huffed, saying, “You're not needed nor wanted here. Go away. I don’t want you anywhere near me again. Got it?”

Chat Noir only blinked, still a little shocked.

“Good,” she said, walking around him.

After a minute of walking, Marinette turned around; Chat nowhere to be seen.

_ Good. He’s gone. Now calm down, Marinette. We’ll be there in less than ten minutes. _

As promised to herself, she made it to her destination a little while after the encounter with the alley cat.

The Eiffel Tower beckoned Marinette, almost daring her to come closer. And of course, she did. Taking the stairs, Marinette slid her hand along the railing. Every step drew her closer to her end and she was fine with that. Everybody dies eventually. So why should it matter when? If anything, it’s easier to know when you’re going to die. That way, you can prepare and accept what is to come. That is why Marinette was fine with this. She wrote letters for everyone. Well, mostly everyone. She accepted death. Hell, by now she welcomed it. 

Halfway to the top, Marinette stopped and looked out at the scene before her. Still, the city was quiet, but the lights glittered in the night. It was beautiful. Almost too beautiful. Almost. 

Marinette started climbing again, keeping her pace and running her hand along the rail. As she got higher and higher, the wind started to blow through her hair and pick up parts of her dress to sway along. 

Soon enough, she reached the top. The stairs ended to welcome a platform. Marinette strolled over to the edge, taking in the wonderful sensations the night gave. Tears pricked at her eyes, begging to be shed.

_ Why not? It's only natural to cry before death. _

And she did. Tears streamed down her cheeks, leaving makeup filled salty trails in their wake. 

Quietly, Marinette wept into the Parisian night. The wind eventually dried her cheeks and eyes. Or perhaps there wasn’t anything else to shed. One last time, she smiled at the glittering lights.

Marinette took a step closer to the railing and looked down at the concrete below. A few lights lit up the grey ground. It wasn’t the last thing Marinette wanted to see. No. She gazed up at the stars above and knew she had the perfect last sight. So, she climbed over the railing and stood on the small sliver of ground that came out from the landing. Keeping her hands on the top of the railing, Marinette leaned back and took in the starry heavens above. More and more tears streaked across her cheeks, ruining her makeup ever more. Yet she smiled. 

_ Now let go. _

“Marinette!” a voice yelled.

  


Marinette brought her head forward to look at the black cat miraculous holder standing in the middle of the platform. Everything was going perfectly. Too perfect, perhaps.

  


“Marinette, please.” he said, steadily walking towards her.

Every fiber of her mind told her to let go, but her body wasn’t responding. She closed her eyes and turned her head to the side. Maybe it was an attempt to get her body to let go, or maybe it was to get Chat to grab her.

“Don’t,” she said, her voice broken. Tears pricked under her closed eyelids. “Don’t be a hero. Let  _ me _ be sacrificed for once.”

Chat stood there frozen in place, unsure on how to respond.

“Sometimes, people don’t want to be saved,” Marinette said, turning her head to her partner. 

He didn’t look like her partner though. His arm stretched out and his face only showed worry. She didn’t want this to be the last time she saw him. But it was. No matter what, this was it. Tears streaming down her face and her kitty not looking like his usual self.

“One last time,” she whispered, the faintest smile tugging at her lips. “One.. last.. time..”

And with the littlest effort, Marinette let go. 

  


Time moved in slow motion as she fell backwards. She could see Chat’s eyes grow with horror as her body fell. His mouth moved, but no words could be heard. He was calling her name. She knew he was. But, it was too late. 

Marinette's body fell below the landing, hiding him from view. A tear escaped her eye. The tear seemed to be floating up, but in reality, she was falling faster than it. 

Wind rippled through her loose dress and hair. Her arms and legs reached for the night sky above as her middle plummeted. She followed her fingers up and gazed at the twinkling stars above. That’s just what she wanted. A beautiful sight before a tragic end.

  
  


~Goodbye, Chaton. I can only hope to see you in the next life.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and I hope you liked it. Please tell me what you think of it in the comments. Any feedback is welcomed :) That being said, I went back and forth with this fic and I’m not surprised that I let Marinette take her life. I was planning it from the beginning, but wasn’t 100% sure about it. The fact that Chat could have saved her was cute and all, but the only way out for Marinette is to die. Even if Chat had saved her that night, she would have attempted again and again until she found the sweet release of death. Kind of morbid, huh?
> 
> Also, I have two other ideas for a new fic that will be going into the One Last Time collection. The first one will be a one-shot and the second is a multi-chapter fic. Granted, each one will take a long while to write. About a couple months as this one took nearly that long too.
> 
> Again, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed my little fic :)
> 
> This Bitch Out~


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